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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850381">Bring Me to Life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlFriday21/pseuds/GirlFriday21'>GirlFriday21</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, I Don't Even Know, I love angst, M/M, Multi, just not sure what yet, this will grow into something</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:27:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlFriday21/pseuds/GirlFriday21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Angst. Angst. And more Angst.<br/>Julie, when there's no more Phantoms.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Mercer &amp; Julie Molina &amp; Luke Patterson &amp; Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First work on AO3.<br/>I've always used fanfic.net</p><p>I don't really know where this is going. Well, that's a lie. I have an idea, but it can definitely be expanded on. This is extremely short. I just kind of want to see the reaction to this and see if it is actually worth expanding. </p><p>I'm all about angst with the occasional fluff. Be warned.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I paused at the sight of, not just an acoustic guitar, but <em>the</em> acoustic guitar.</p><p>My breath intake suddenly became quick and shallow. My hand unknowingly began to move towards it, but retracted at the sudden voice in my head.</p><p>
  <em>"That is definitely not my six-string."</em>
</p><p>I tried to even out my breathing.</p><p>My eyes clamped together while both hands fell to my sides.</p><p>Inhale.</p><p>
  <em>"Maybe she's a witch. There's chairs floating on the ceiling."</em>
</p><p>Exhale.</p><p>The sound of not a laugh, and not quite a cry escaped my now shaking lips. The chairs are still there taunting me with a memory almost forgotten.</p><p>Inhale.</p><p>The grand piano.</p><p>
  <em>"Do you play the piano too?"</em>
</p><p>I tried to swallow down the sudden tightness in my throat.</p><p>Exhale.</p><p>The piano bench was gone. No one played out here anymore. I couldn't stop my fingers from shaking until they were gently gliding across the keyboard. The twitch of familiarity tugged at me and I couldn't stop myself. My head lulled to the side at the notes that hung in the air. The familiar melody breaking me all over again. I tucked my chin into my shoulder, fell to the ground, and cried.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anxiety had became almost a blanket of comfort that both crippled me physically and mentally.</p><p>I almost leaned into its abruptness just to <em>feel</em> closer to them-to Alex.</p><p> </p><p>His pacing.</p><p>His worrying.</p><p>His reactions to change.</p><p> </p><p>It was toxic, but I'd take anything-<em>do </em>anything.</p><p>Because all I had were my memories and even they were starting to fade.</p><p> </p><p>It had been 11 months  since I've seen the boys.</p><p>Eleven months since I've heard Reggie having a one-sided conversation with my dad.</p><p>Eleven months since I've seen Alex gush over Willie.</p><p>Eleven months since…"<em>You're a star Julie</em>."</p><p>Eleven months since Carlos stopped searching for ghosts.</p><p>Eleven months since Flynn stopped marketing for the band.</p><p> </p><p>It had been 11 months since Caleb had not only declared ownership of the boys, but had erased all traces of them amongst the living.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost as though it never happened.</p><p>The Orpheum.</p><p>The Garage Party.</p><p>Eats&amp;Beats.</p><p>The Auditorium.</p><p> </p><p>Nobody remembered any of the performances.</p><p>Nobody except me.</p><p> </p><p>Caleb had even managed to make sure that our YouTube video had been wiped.</p><p>Julie and the Phantoms had never existed.</p><p>Sunset Curve was the only concrete proof I had that my boys were real.</p><p> </p><p>I clutched at the edges of my jacket and wrapped it snuggly around myself. My hair clung to my tear filled face.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>When you create a world, you really live in it." </em></p><p> </p><p>The seed of doubt had rooted itself in my head months ago.</p><p>I shuttered at the thought.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Maybe seeing Dr. Turner again isn't such a bad idea."</em></p><p> </p><p>The cold chill I felt run down my spine had nothing to do with the slight breeze that had took hold on such a beautiful California night. </p><p>Was none of it real?</p><p>Did I miss my mom so much that I brought this boyband back to life in my own mind to satisfy my own grief? Did I create the personalities of each of the boys to represent myself? Was Alex anxious because I was? Was Luke musically driven because I was? Was Reggie so loveable because I was? Did I make them this way to bring myself a method of coping? Did I listen and like their demo, google them and bring them to fruition because it had been more death I couldn't bear?</p><p>Did I do this to myself?</p><p>My eyes glazed over.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They are real.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>It had become a silent mantra I told myself over and over again. </p><p>I had pushed myself to keep my feet moving forward.</p><p>To keep on looking.</p><p>Because they had to be here somewhere.</p><p>Hollywood Ghost Club had to be here somewhere.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They are real. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I'm going to bring them home. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The thought pushed down the last of the anxiousness I had felt and I continued on scanning all the buildings as I walked past them.</p>
  </div></div>
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